


The Lost Boy

by HydraHails



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Lost Henry I Guess?, M/M, Panry, Pre-Slash, Uhm there's not much to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HydraHails/pseuds/HydraHails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was kind of ironic that the more lost Henry became, the more he felt like he was being found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is kind of based off of "Nasty Habits" and it probably won't make much sense if you didn't watch that episode... It's mostly Henry's musings and thoughts that I thought he'd might think except with a splash of Panry because everything's better with a little bit of Panry thrown in it!:D

Prancing around the campfire with the other boys, Henry beat two sticks together and allowed his lips to stretch out into a carefree smile. The flames before the boys seemed to dance with them, curling dangerously towards the dark sky with vengeance and flickering towards him as if they were reaching out. The inferno illuminated the energy traced on the Lost Boys’ faces and Henry couldn’t help but let out a livening shout before beating the wood against each other higher above his head.

Something had awoken in him; something that filled out Henry’s body like air in a balloon and burned in his stomach, spilling out of his mouth in waves of exhilaration. It was a heated type of ice that traveled through his veins and left him feeling empty - yet at the same time, he had never felt more alive.

He felt complete.

The remnants of the early tune Peter had played still fogged his brain, but his current actions were fueled by his emotions and not the earlier daze that he had strangely fallen into. His feelings were of anger, sadness, and abandonment – everything that had pent up inside of him his entire life that he had simply brushed away with a feeble excuse and had buried it deep within him. It had resurfaced now and he felt it all surging through him. He released it by the thrill of these intoxicating actions.

Despite all the things Henry had hated here in Neverland, there were also things that he loved. Although he hadn’t admitted it to himself at first, he did at this very moment. 

The Lost Boys around him believed in him, Peter Pan especially, and it was something that he cherished. Despite all the doubts he had about himself, despite the fact that he was suppose to be the biggest believer and the redeemer of magic, they were the ones that believed in him and it was a feeling he wasn’t use to. A feeling that he liked.

Before the curse was broken back in Storybrooke, no one thought that the hex was real. Even his own Mother, the Savior, thought it to be nothing more than Henry’s wild imagination. She did what many of the others did and simply tried to humor him. Despite the strong front he had put up, he had felt absolutely crazy for being the only one to believe in the curse. He felt like he had been losing his mind…

But now, he was believed in. Now his biggest believer heart had a purpose other than making him look like a fool and he never felt like he had one before.

Suddenly, soft music began to flood his ears again and it put his mind in a sort of haze, blanketing him in euphoria. Glancing up, he saw Peter in the middle of the circle, besides the fire, with his lips curled over his wooden pipe. His eyes flickered up, meeting Henry’s, and Henry felt his heart speed up slightly although he couldn’t depict why. His thoughts were becoming a jumbled mess, crashing into one another, and all he could really do was continue to wildly dance, his eyes never venturing away from Peter’s light orbs.

His mind was swirling with incoherent thoughts now and Henry could feel himself becoming more lost than ever before… 

His Father was dead. His Mother never wanted him in the first place; she only came to Storybrooke and stayed because he begged her to. His other Mother saw him as some sort of possession to keep most of the time and he felt alone. He felt lost.

His eyes remained locked with Peter’s as they glazed over and when the older boy pulled away from the pipe and grinned, Henry felt the mist disappearing from his orbs and himself smiling back. The loneliness he felt seemed to soften and when he looked around at the Lost Boys, it went away completely.

Peter’s words rang through his head, one of the only clear thoughts he had at the moment, “We can be your family.” And Henry couldn’t help but like the sound of that, because he was truly wanted here. They never had any doubt in their mind about wanting him here and they believed in him.

Without much thought, Henry reached out and grabbed Peter’s hand, pulling him into the circle and laughing as Peter gave him a smug smile. Henry felt his own grin spreading from it, and he pulled the older teen along with him, jumping around the campfire some more.

It felt like the pixie dust moment all over again, only this time, Henry knew exactly who Peter was and he still felt the same warmth overcoming the ice within him. Before it was the coldness of fear from being taken to Neverland, but now, the frost was from realization of how alone he’s always been.

But he wasn’t anymore.

He had the Lost Boys now, and more importantly, he had Pan. The boy who gave him soft, reassuring words and would do anything to keep him here. The boy who had spent hundreds of years waiting for him, dreaming of his arrival. The boy who believed in him. The boy who wanted Henry to have fun.

His dysfunctional family wasn’t his family at all – this was. This fun, this laughter, this belonging, this belief… And he couldn’t help but love it.

Henry was now a Lost Boy, but despite the title, he couldn’t help but think he had found his place. This emptiness was his to keep, but so were the people around him, and it seemed like a fair trade.

Looking up at Peter, Henry beamed, “I’m starting to like it here.” He laughed in exhilaration.

The smirk in return sent shivers down Henry’s spine that were much similar to the chills he would get when he felt Peter’s unreadable eyes watching him. It didn’t matter that Henry couldn’t see him looking because he could feel it and it had made him nervous, but the quivers now had a different effect on him. They made him nervous in an entirely different way now, and it was just another thing that he found himself loving.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, it's just another short something I wrote and can be found at my tumblr, (hollow-lungs.tumblr.com/fanfiction), as can some of my other work. Thanks for reading and I hope to put my lazy butt into action and actually write a full length fic about this couple soon!


End file.
